Father Knows Best
by HalfwayThereNow
Summary: McGee's father breaks out of prison and chases after his son. The team finds out and they try to protect Tim, only resaulting in them and McGee getting hurt. Mild McAbby and Tiva. T for abuse and to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, peeps! Ah….. I'm so glad I'm making this! Anywho….. I've always wondered why I like hurting my favorite NCIS character… I mean, if I love him, why would I put him through all this torture? You may expect me to answer that question, but, I don't know! Go ask Albert Einstein!**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I never have owned NCIS and sadly, I never freaking will! ****L**

**Prologue:**

"Stop!" begged a small blonde boy, no older than ten years old. "Please, stop!" The cries of Timothy McGee went unheard as he tried to scramble further away from the drunkard in his room. Various parts of his body were bleeding profusely, but the pain was drowned out by fear. Eventually, he reached the wall, his back pressed flush up against it with nowhere to go.

A tall man with identical hair as the boy loomed threateningly over him, a broken beer bottle in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. "Shut up!" the man ordered, throwing the bottle and bat onto the ground. He picked Timothy up by his collar and pressed him up against the wall, dangling him in the air. "Shut the hell up, you little bastard! You will never speak that way to me, you hear me, you ungrateful bitch?!" He beat the child several more times, slapping him once and punching him in the gut twice.

Timothy's lip quivered but made no sound. "I-I'm sorry, Father," he said shakily. He let out a choked sob, disguising it as a cough as he spit up blood.

Ronald McGee's eyes widened and his expression turned feral. "What did I just tell you, boy?" he screamed as he flung his son to the ground. His nostrils flared as he let out a snarl. Ronald kicked Timothy in the stomach before stomping out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Timothy lay in a mangled heap of twisted limbs and blood. He sobbed silently, for fear of his father overhearing. _Mom, _he thought brokenly, _why did you leave? _At the thought of his mother, he remembered the cell phone his mother gave him for his ninth birthday. Carrie McGee had known about the abuse, and told her son to use it if her husband got too violent.

"Keep it hidden from your father," she had told him quietly, pressing a wrapped box into his hand. Giving him a swift peck on the forehead, she ushered Timothy into his room before gliding away to soothe her drunken husband.

Carrie McGee died later that week in a 'freak accident.' They all knew it was Ronald's doing, but no proof could be provided. The drunkard was smarter than he let on to carry out the murder.

As he dialed 911, Timothy managed to crawl back over to the wall, huddling in a corner and praying his father wouldn't come back in. "911, what is your emergency?" a woman said, her voice immediately giving hope to Tim.

"M-y name is Timothy McGee, and I live—I live on 7845 W-Westfield Drive, Farmington H-Hills, Mi-Michigan. Father just—my dad beat me up a-again. Please help me," he begged, holding back a sob. Timothy sniffled pitifully. "Please."

There was a moment of silence, and Timothy knew the lady was debating whether this was a real emergency or a prank by the neighborhood boys. Eventually, she decided it was real and informed him the police and paramedics would be with him shortly. "Would you like me to stay on the phone?" she asked kindly, knowing the boy was terrified to death. And probably beaten near to death as well, she thought ruefully.

"No!" he exclaimed, green eyes widening fearfully. "Father will just come and hurt me more!" Timothy quickly hung up and waited in silence, letting out no sound but the occasional whimper or sniffle. In a mere ten minutes, sirens could be heard, and the police and an ambulance arrived at his home. Crawling across the room in agony, he pushed himself up to look out the window. There was his father, being restrained and handcuffed by three different officers. A wave of relief washed over him. He would finally be free from his father.

Tim strained to keep his eyes open, for fear he would wake up and find this was all just a dream. He felt himself slipping. The last thing Timothy heard was, "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! WHEN I GET OUT OF JAIL, YOU'LL BE SORRY, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!"

And all went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, guys. Who will be nice and review? YOU ALL WILL!!!!! *Swings clock on a chain* YOU ARE GETTING SLEEPY!!!!! SO VERY SLEEPY!!!!! Now, when I clap my hands, you will wake up, read this wonderful story, and review!!!! *Claps hands***

Special Agent, Timothy McGee sat up in his bed, spine stiff and drenched in sweat. His eyes were wide open; he was afraid if he closed them, he would be engulfed in the memory of his monster of a father. Every year since his father's arrest, Timothy would have a nightmare on the anniversary. This year was different from the previous nightmares. A pang of fear and worry bubbled in his stomach, feeling as though something dreadful would happen. Shaking his head at the thought, Timothy swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up, not wanting to return to the land of dreams.

It was only four a.m., but Timothy decided to get ready for work; he would just look extra sharp today. As he trudged to the kitchen, he began his every-day ritual: eat, brush teeth, shower, go to the bathroom, get dressed, and then leave for work. Today was no different. But every time he would blink, an image of his father's furious face would appear. Timothy shuddered every time his father's dull green eyes—which were so very similar to his own— bore into his mind. It terrified him.

When Timothy arrived at work, he didn't respond to any of Tony's insults or Ziva's mistakes. He completed his work quietly, following orders obediently with no objection or snarky comment. The others noted his behavior through concerned eyes. But whenever they asked, Timothy would steer away from the topic or ignore it altogether.

It was nearly lunchtime when Timothy's phone desk rang. He answered it quickly, since he was expecting an important call from the forensics' lab. "Special Agent Timothy McGee," he answered brusquely, his tone a bit more subdued than usual.

A hoarse chuckle reached his ears. "I thought this was your line, but I couldn't be too sure," the voice rasped. The man was breathing heavily, as though he were anxious about something. He sounded horribly familiar, and a shiver coursed up Timothy's spine. "I'm glad you're doing well. Hello… my son."

Timothy's blood ran cold.

"W-when did you—how did you get out of p-prison?" Timothy stuttered, face ashen and hands shaking.

The agents in the room turned to stare owlishly at Timothy, similar thoughts running through their heads. _What the hell is going on? Prison?_

"That's how you greet our loving father?" Ronald McGee admonished, 'tsk'ing sinisterly at his son. "Timmy, you need to watch what you say. I raised you better than that." Timothy could hear him chuckle once more before giving a hacking cough.

"You didn't answer my question," Timothy gritted out, his jaw clenched. "How did you get out?"

"Oh, I escaped," Ronald said breezily. "Now, Timothy. I hear you have a daughter now. Julie, is it? I should pay her a visit. After all—"

"Don't you dare!" snapped Timothy once he'd finally gathered his wits. "Don't you _dare _go anywhere near her, or so help me, I will kill you." Fury coursed through his veins, and Timothy wanted nothing more than to fulfill his threat right then and there.

"Timmy, you wound me," Ronald said in a mock hurt tone. "Such a way to speak to your father…"

"You were never a father to me," Timothy hissed as he clenched his fists in anger.

"Yes, well. I can always be a loving granddaddy to—what was it?—Julia. I hear she's nearby from where I am. How will you protect her and her mother? Kimmy, was it?"

"Julie and Karen," Timothy snarled. "If I hear _one word _from either of them about you, if you touch _one hair _on their heads—you _will _die. In the slow, painful way you deserve." The rest of the group was shocked. They'd never heard McGee sound so… furious and lethal.

Ronald gave a hum in response. "I suppose I won't touch any of their head hair. But I make no promises on their body parts. Or the rest of your family, for that matter," he said breezily, not seeming to take any notice on Timothy's looming threat. "And now, my darling son, I bid you adieu. Don't make me kill you, eh?" And the line went dead.

Timothy's expression contorted into one of pure rage. He slammed the phone down on the receiver and gathered up his things, spouting a stream of profanities and death threats. Just as he was about to leave to the elevator, Timothy was stopped by Gibbs' hand on his shoulder.

"What the hell is going on, McGee?" Gibbs' expression was hard and his jaw was clenched, but his eyes held a great amount of concern and worry for his friend.

"What the hell is going on?" Timothy repeated with a slightly manic laugh. "I'll fucking tell you what's going on. My family's in danger!"

Ziva blinked and hesitantly approached him. "W-Who was that man?"

Timothy gave all of them an impatient look, and his knuckles were white from the death grip he had on his suitcase handle. "Just come with me. I'll explain on the way. I have no more time to waste." They all complied, all three of them trailing after Timothy's fast-moving form. As they reached the elevator, Timothy spoke up, "You wanted to know who that man was, Ziva? That man was my father."

The woman gasped. "Your father? Ronald? I thought you said he was abusive."

Timothy's eyes hardened and his forehead furrowed. "Yeah. The bastard who almost killed me fifteen times and"—his voice broke slightly—"succeeded in killing my mom. I finally was able to call 911 when I was nine. Then the police came and arrested the bastard, and I was free from him." Timothy's free hand curled into a tight fist that shook with suppressed anger. "But as he left, he promised he'd be back and that I'd be sorry. He wanted to kill me.

"And now, today, he's escaped jail, and he's fucking back. He said he'd kill my family." Timothy scoffed. "What a dickhead. My entire family is basically Marines. Idiot's too stupid to realize that I'm—uh, _we're _gonna catch him and send him back to his cell." Timothy's lips tugged downward into a spiteful scowl. "But if you ask me, jail is too good for him."

Tony bit his lip, hesitant to ask. He felt like it would be horrible of him to ask the question now, but he needed to know. "What happened after he went to jail?" asked Tony gruffly as he averted his eyes from McGee's smoldering ones.

"No one in my bloody family would take me. No foster homes would take me either, so I went to a damn orphanage. And y'know what? Some kids are worse off than Little Orphan Annie."

He jabbed the button with an unnecessary force. "The orphanage I went to, where Mrs. Stratus ran, I thought was the most wonderful place ever. She was like my mom, always really nice and kind. But she'd leave all day, and her bastard of a husband would force all of the kids to do whatever he wanted us to do. It was just like leaving home and finding a place exactly like it. He abused all of us regularly and even raped a few of the girls." Timothy's scowl deepened. "I hate him so much."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "More than your father?"

Timothy let out a sardonic scoff. "Oh, please. It doesn't come close."


	3. Chapter 3

**DON'T THROW TOMATOES!!!!!!!!! My beta has taken a while to finish my chapters, so I'm posting them now....... Anyway, my lovely beta, Overuse of Emoticons, has made all these chapters as wonderful as they are, and if you have read the Twisted Life of Claire Bailey Tucker, I'm sure you saw the difference between chapter 3 or 4 and everything after that…. That was Overuse. Also, ****Ay-Duh-Lin** **helped me with the title for this story, so this is a shout out to both of them. Overuse, Ay-Duh-Lin, LOVE YOU GUYS!!!!!**

**Chapter 3**

_Riiiing-riiiiing _"Hello?"

"Karen! Thank God you're safe." McGee was in the parking garage with the rest of the team.

"Oh, hi Timmy, and of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" Karen McGee answered.

"Uh, well, ya' know 'bout my dad, right?" Tim asked, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

"Of course, how could I forget?"

"Well, the bastard broke out of prison. He called me and said he's coming for you and Julie, but I'm going to come to pick you guys up and I'm gonna get someone to watch you two 24/7. I mean that."

Silence.

"Oh, Timmy!" Karen sobbed. "What's going to happen?"

"Shhh, shhh, it's alright. I won't let him hurt you; I will never let him hurt you."

"When are you coming?"

"Leaving NCIS as soon as I hang up. Can I talk to Julie?"

"Of course! Hold on, Tim." McGee heard a distant call for Julie.

"Daddy?" The beautiful voice of Juliet McGee floated through the cell phone and into McGee's ears.

"Hey, baby girl," Gibbs, Tony, and Ziva, who had been listening intently since McGee first spoke into the phone, became even more intrigued at the words 'baby girl'.

"Helwo, daddy. I wuv you." The 4 year old said.

"I love you, too, sweetie. How are you? Having fun with mommy?" The other three exchanged glances.

"Yeah! It's welly **(A/N: Really, just for those of you who can't figure it out.;3) **fun! New Fork is cool!"

"Julie, its New _York_! Who ever heard of New Fork? That's a really funny name, don't you think?"

Julie giggled. "Yeah…"

"Argh, you're a cutie. So, what did you and mommy do?"

"Uh, we went to the beach and the pawk **(A/N: Park) **aaaaannnnndddd mommy and me went shopping! I gots a new dwess!"

"Aw, I can't wait to see you in it, little one. Hey, I'm going to come up to New York and get you guys, okay? Then we can be together, peanut."

"M'kay, daddy. I wuv you!!"

"I love you, too. So much. Can't wait to see you, darling."

"Me, too! Buh bye, daddy!"

"Bye, Julie. I want to talk to mommy again, sweetheart."

"O'tay!" Julie shouted loud enough for the other three to hear. Tim heard the shuffle of feet, a soft thank you, and then his wife's sweet voice.

"Hey, Tim. So when are you coming up again?"

"I'm still in the parking garage, I'll be there in a few hours, if I can catch a good plane," McGee glanced over to Ziva and Gibbs. "Or I might be able to get there faster by driving…"

"Oh, well, whatever works for you. We'll be here, waiting." Tim smiled.

"Okay, Karen. Love you, baby."

"Love you, too, Timmy." The line went dead and Tim stuffed his phone into his pocket.

"Well, now that that's over," McGee began, swinging around to face the team. He saw them looking confused; Tony looked as if he were going to ask a question. "What?"

"You have a _family_, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh, well yeah. They went up to New York a few months ago and they usually live in my apartment, but you guys wouldn't know that." _You don't care enough to even invite me over to your houses, let alone willingly come to mine… _

Tony and Ziva looked away, they knew what Tim meant. Gibbs' stare didn't falter, though. "Why didn't you tell us, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

Tim broke into humorless, sarcastic laughter. "Really, you seriously want to ask me that?" Gibbs nodded. "Okay, well, Tony would just go on and on about the sex I would have had, or not care what so ever and go on and on about the sex _he _had the night before, Ziva would just tease me, and you, Gibbs, you wouldn't give a damn! We got married three years ago, but of course, you never cared enough to notice the ring on my finger, or notice how happy I was! I thought about inviting you guys to the fucking wedding! I almost decided no, but I thought maybe, just maybe, you guys would want to come or you would send me a card or a gift or at least acknowledge the damn ring! I have to endure all the shit that comes from you guys, the head slaps, the teasing, all of it! What the hell do I get in return for smiling through it all these years, for caring when you were ill or hurt, for sitting there alone most of time, 'cause you don't like me enough to invite me to get just a drink after a long day at work? Nothing, absolutely nothing. So why the hell would _I _try and tell you? You'd all just ignore me, _'Oh, here comes the computer geek! Quick, time to not care, time to ignore him and make him do all the grunt work while we have fun!'_"

Tim sneered, throwing his hands up in fake joy. "_'Oh, the geek has no feelings. The geek doesn't mind being the little slave. Oh, the geek will do whatever we want without complaint!' _Newsflash, I care about you guys and I have feelings. I'm also sick and tired of being picked on and used and never talked to! It's like I'm in fucking high school again, no one ever wants to sit with the geek because he's a freak, and he's smart, and he can do algebra 10 times faster than us!" McGee stopped and looked away. Taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

"I just don't want to be left out. It hurts. Julie and Karen aren't around as much as you think, they're almost always on trips and-and I'm alone." He looked up, tears in his eyes and that famous pout playing on his lips, which quivered. Tim looked like a small child.

He let the words sink in before speaking again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ever lashed out on you guys like that-"

"McGee?" Tim looked up at Gibbs. "Shut the hell up. You have _nothing _to be sorry about. You're right, we've been bastards the last couple of years and we're sorry. I know it's not much now, but we are, so let us help you." When McGee didn't respond, Gibbs tried again. "Please?"

Ziva and Tony's eyes widened, they had _never _heard Gibbs say please before, or sorry. Tim looked up and bit his lip. "I-I'm sor- I mean, thanks… Boss?"

"Yeah, McGee?"

"Can we go now?"

"Yeah, McGee, we can."

**Ha, this is long. Cool.**


	4. Author's Note

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Ok, guys. I'm about to deliver pretty sad news… I'm putting this and The Twisted Life of Claire Bailey Tucker on hiatus until further notice… Basically, until I finish another story that isn't on hiatus. Then I'll choose one of the two to re-start. They'll probably be a poll on my profile so you can choose. I'm sooooo sorry! It's just, I realized I can't write 6 stories at once, so I'll try 4. If not 4, then 3. And so on. And anyway, I have 4 other stories you can read:

Static Shock – Animal Crossing City Folk

Holidays – NCIS

Shut Down – NCIS

The Healer – Camp Rock

Once again, I'm sorry!


End file.
